Page 59 of Legacy

It wasn’t to the level of my extreme hatred, but it was close.

I took a healthy swallow of my wine and hummed to myself. Eli might not object to disposing of his DNA provider after all.

His support would make things much easier, but there was no guarantee.

Dammit, why did I want him by my side so desperately all of a sudden?

Logic said Laya, Cali, and Vik were the only people I could trust. But that stupid part of me desperately wanted to believe Eli would stand by me.

Shit. That lunch had fucked with my mind.

Downing the rest of my glass, I allowed the alcohol to numb my thoughts as I stared out at the waters as the boats came into their docks.

I was thirty years old, hardened, and matured from a long life of loss and fear. I wasn’t some green teenager in love with life, my head in the clouds. Why was I allowing my thoughts to overwhelm me like this?

Fuck. I needed another drink. Or maybe I should eat something first, or risk letting the wine have fun with my head.

Moving back into the kitchen, I set the glass on the island and pulled out a plate. It looked as if it would be dinner for one tonight.

I’d barely refilled my wine when the door opened and closed, signaling Elias’s return.

I pushed back all the turmoil and attempted to wear my mask of cool indifference. If Eli came here and suspected something wasn’t right, he wouldn’t ask but demand to know what was happening.

The fact he could read me was a very annoying ability of his.

When he entered the kitchen, his face showed annoyance and something that sent a wave of uneasiness down my spine.

No need to worry about him sensing anything with me when he was a tangle of irritation.

“You cooked?” he asked, but his tone showed no real interest outside of the fact I was in the kitchen.

I pulled out an additional dish. “Yes. I wanted to make something from my childhood. So I gave the chef the night off.”

He nodded and headed toward the stairwell leading to our room. “Give me five minutes.”

Well, okay then.

When he returned, there was this look in his eyes that had me worried. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or angry.

“What’s wrong?”

He exhaled long, taking a bottle of water from the fridge. After he drank half of it, he capped the container and shook his head. “Meetings.”

“That’s not vague.”

He grunted, peeking around me as though to guess what I was making. “What is that?”

“Comfort food.”

“And you accuse me of being vague,” he muttered.

I poured him a glass of wine and passed it to him. “Did Ozias piss you off?”

“That. And other things.” He took it and drank nearly the whole glass before running his hand through his thick hair.

I couldn’t help but stare as his shirt clung to the bulge of his biceps with his mindless movements. The man was completely unaware of how his agitation was a complete turn-on.

I bit my lip, tormented with the temptation to push for more. Eli, being so close-lipped and secretive, nudged at some sadistic part of me to poke at him.

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